I move among the shadows,
Slient, still as the night.
My pale skin softly glows,
bathed in glossamer moonlight.
Craveings awake from within,
My pluse begins to race.
No stopping once it begins,
I must soon leave this place.
I follow the sirens song,
The thrist will always win.
After all the blood is gone,
The dance anew begins.
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